"But if they fall to your lot, you must not shirk them. Think! Now is your chance to do all you can to brighten the lives of your father and mother. The opportunity will not last for ever!" Magda gave one startled glance, as if the suggestion had gone home. "And the duties which lie ready to our hands are generally the important ones in life—for us."
"They seem so poor—just frittering away the hours."
"If they are given you to do, it is no question of frittering away. It becomes a matter simply of obedience."
She repeated the word—"Obedience?"
Magda almost thought he had not heard, for he seemed lost in thought. Soon he aroused himself.
"Once upon a time," he said, "a carpet was being woven by hand in an eastern land. Many men were employed upon it; and to each his separate task was given. If he failed—either the whole would be spoilt, or his share would be given to another. To a visitor from far-off, who stood looking as they worked, it appeared a mere jumble of shapeless figures and ill-assorted colours, with no definite plan, not worth the trouble expended on it. But long after, when that same traveller saw the carpet in its completed state, he found it to be a thing of wonderful richness and beauty, of fine design and splendid colouring. For he saw it then on its right side—whereas he had seen it before on its wrong side. And those men, as they worked, could see little beyond the small portion under their own eyes. They could not judge of the effect of the whole, till the day when it should be finished."
Silence again; and Magda said, "You mean—?"
"A world-wide carpet is being woven through the ages. And only the Divine Master-Mind, having designed its pattern, can foresee what it will be like in the end. Many, many, are at work upon it. One little square inch of the weaving is given to me as my life-task, and another little square inch is given to you. Neither of us can see much beyond our own tiny share. What we have to do may seem to us out of harmony with the rest, or not worth the trouble of doing. Sometimes our whole work looks like failure. But we cannot judge. It is impossible for us in this life to see which task is the more important—still less, to decide which is the better done. We only know that it is in the faithful working out of our own appointed task, great or small—in doing it for our dear Master and by His help—that we may hope to win by-and-by His loving—'Well done!'"
"Only it's so awfully difficult to find out what one really has to do."
"Granted, in certain cases, such a difficulty! There is always the promise that he who wills to do God's Will, shall be shown that Will. He may have to wait; but in time it will be made clear."